


Love Makes A Family

by eternaleponine



Series: Love Makes A Family [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Foster Care, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: It's been less than two months since Lexa met Clarke, and she already can't imagine her life without her.  But what will she do when their romantic Valentine's Day plans get derailed by a call from Anya that she can't ignore?





	1. Chapter 1

Going back to work after a week spent in Clarke's almost-constant company was one of the most difficult things that Lexa had ever done. She'd made herself sleep at home the night before – alone – because she knew that if she woke up with Clarke beside her, the temptation to call in sick for just one more day might be more than she could resist. 

Her phone chimed a few minutes before her alarm went off, and she picked it up to check, hoping it wasn't some kind of family or work emergency because why else would anyone text her this early? But when she saw the words on the screen, she could only grin. 

**CLARKE:** It's not fair that you can keep me up all night without even being here.  
**CLARKE:** I'm going to bed now, but I before I do I wanted to say that I hope you have an amazing day. I love you. ♥

Once Lexa had let herself say it on New Years, those three words had come easily and frequently from their lips (and fingertips), and Lexa's heart still skipped a beat every time. It didn't matter that it had only been a week that they'd known each other. As Luna always told her, when something was right, you just knew it. Some things were just meant to be.

Lexa had never believed it before.

She believed it now. 

**LEXA:** I love you too. Dinner tonight?

**CLARKE:** When and where?

**LEXA:** My place at 6? 

**CLARKE:** It's a date.

* * *

Clarke stopped short in the entryway to Lexa's apartment, and Lexa watched her face as she took it in. Clarke wasn't very good at keeping her feelings from showing on her face, but she was obviously trying, probably not wanting to hurt Lexa's feelings.

Lexa laughed and grabbed Clarke's scarf, using it to draw her closer so she could kiss her until the look of vague horror melted from her eyes. "You hate it," she said. 

"I don't _hate_ it," Clarke lied. "It's just..." Her nose wrinkled, and Lexa laughed again, pressing her lips to its tip. "It's totally you, and not you at all. If that makes sense."

Lexa turned to look at the place where she'd been living for the last couple of years. When she'd finally decided after her third promotion in as many years that she wasn't likely to leave her job (which she'd originally thought of as a stepping stone to bigger and better things) any time soon, she'd decided she might as well make an investment and start putting down roots. It had sort of been a 'fuck you' to her ex, too, who had accused her of being unable to commit to anything. Not that it had mattered; Costia had already moved on. She tried to see it through someone else's eyes, to imagine what Clarke was seeing. 

"It does," she said after a moment. "It makes complete sense." Because the place was all angles and corners, whites and neutrals, a little cold and a little sterile. It had come furnished when she bought it, sleek and modern to appeal to an upscale market, and she hadn't bothered to put her own stamp on things. So it was exactly like the façade that she presented to the world... and nothing like who she was inside. 

"It's beautiful," Clarke said. "It's just... it doesn't even look like anyone lives here."

Lexa nodded. "Maybe it's time to change that," she said, slipping her arms around Clarke's waist and pulling their bodies flush against each other as their mouths met again, and again. 

Clarke's scarf ended up draped over the back of a chair, her coat tossed onto the couch, her sweater discarded somewhere near the kitchen island, her bra halfway down the hall. Her jeans landed just inside the bedroom doorway, her socks beside the bed, so that by the time Lexa pressed her down into the cloud-like mattress that was her favorite thing about this place, all Clarke had left was a pair of silky blue panties just a few shades darker than her eyes. Eyes that now looked almost black as her pupils dilated with arousal. Lexa hooked her fingers under the elastic and slid them down her hips, but Clarke didn't lift up so that she could take them the rest of the way off.

"Not while you're still fully dressed," she said. "You don't get to have all of the fun." 

" _Fine_ ," Lexa, heaving an exaggerated sigh. She slid off the bed and slowly unbuttoned the blouse she'd worn to work, turning her back as she let it slide from her shoulders, down her arms, and away, then reached behind herself to unhook her bra, letting that fall too. She looked over her shoulder and saw Clarke was propped up on one elbow, her eyes bright and her lips quirked into something between a smirk and a repressed grin. She was clearly enjoying the show, and when Lexa paused, she gestured for her to go on. 

Lexa slid down the zipper on the side of her skirt and gave a little shimmy so it would fall to the floor, joining the rest of her clothes. (Her pantyhose had been discarded the instant she'd walked in the door, before Clarke had even arrived.) Her own panties were black and lace-trimmed, because she'd wanted to do something a little special for Clarke, even though she'd certainly never complained about peeling Lexa out of her Calvin Kleins. 

"Is that better?" Lexa asked, crawling back onto the bed and over to – and on top of – Clarke. 

"Much," Clarke said. "Carry on."

Lexa laughed, and then leaned down and kissed Clarke, first on the lips and then the cheeks, the corners of her eyes, her earlobes and along her jaw, down her throat and along her collarbone, down her sternum and belly and then back up to her chest, and she was still learning exactly where and how Clarke liked to be touched, but tonight she shivered as Lexa brushed her thumbs over her nipples, and her breath caught as Lexa nuzzled against the undersides of her breasts before bringing her lips to surround the stiff peaks of dark-rose skin, and her tongue flicked out to tease around them, smoothing them and watching them tighten again, first one, then the other, until Clarke's hips were rocking beneath hers and Lexa knew it was time to stop teasing.

This time Clarke lifted her hips eagerly, allowing Lexa to slide her panties down her thighs and calves, tossing them aside to be a problem for later. She spread her legs with only the slightest nudge from Lexa, opening like an invitation that Lexa was more than happy to accept. 

Lexa buried her tongue between Clarke's legs, holding her thighs to keep her steady as she kissed and licked and sucked until Clarke's gasps turned to moans, and she tried to grind against Lexa's face as she came, bucking and buckling and finally falling back with a groan. Lexa quickly wiped her face with a tissue before settling at Clarke's side, letting her decide how much contact she wanted, because sometimes she was sensitive just after that she could hardly bear to be touched... usually after her second or third or fourth orgasm, but sometimes... 

Today wasn't one of those days, and Clarke pulled Lexa around her, twining their bodies together as she pressed soft kisses to any part of her she could reach while her breathing slowed back to normal. "I love you," she whispered, punctuating each kiss, or maybe it was the other way around. "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

She kept saying it as her fingers slipped under the elastic of Lexa's panties, sliding lower and lower still until the tip of her middle finger brushed Lexa's clit and she jerked in surprise as pleasure shot up her spine, tensing and then releasing and then tensing again as Clarke's hand moved again and her finger slipped easily inside of her. 

Lexa let out of a shuddering breath as Clarke thrust gently, the heel of her hand pressing into her clit, giving just enough pressure and friction to get her engines going, but not enough to let her shift into the next gear. She growled with frustration and nipped at Clarke's shoulder, and Clarke smiled at her, making it clear she knew _exactly_ what she was doing. The smile turned into a full-blown grin when Lexa whined as she withdrew her hand completely... but only long enough to discard her underwear.

This time it was two fingers inside of her, crooking and coaxing as Clarke kissed her, open-mouthed and hungry, her tongue darting past Lexa's lips, and then she was devouring her breasts, nipping her hipbones, and finally feasting between her legs, and between her tongue on the outside and her fingers in, Lexa came fast and hard and loud, startling herself with the sound that forced its way out whether she wanted it to or not. 

She couldn't even move for a minute... maybe longer... after. She was putty in Clarke's hands, soft and pliable, ready and willing to be molded into whatever shape Clarke liked. But Clarke didn't seem to feel the need to improve upon the shape she was in – completely shattered and gloriously whole. She just wrapped around her and basked in the glow of her masterpiece.

They did eventually call for delivery, and ate it wrapped in robes at Lexa's island, because Clarke didn't want to risk spilling anything on the 'dry clean only' furniture.

"I don't think you can dry clean furniture," Lexa said with a laugh. But she knew what Clarke meant. It was all too perfect, too pristine. And she could think of better ways to break it in than with spilled moo shu pork. 

"Don't go," she whispered when Clarke commented that it was getting late, so close her lips brushed Clarke's ear. "Stay." 

"I have work in the morning," Clarke said. 

"So do I," Lexa said, worming her fingers under Clarke's robe. "Stay anyway."

Clarke reached for the sash that kept Lexa's robe closed around her and tugged. 

She stayed.

* * *

One week became two became three became a month, and it became easier to count the nights that they didn't spend together than the ones that they did, even though there was nothing about those nights that was easy. Part of Lexa thought that it shouldn't be possible to forget how to sleep alone so quickly, but most of her was just grateful that Clarke showed no signs of tiring of her company. 

Far from it, really. The more time they spent together, the more time they wanted to spend together. The more they learned about each other, the more they wanted to know. They spent time with Lexa's family and Clarke's friends, integrating themselves into each other's lives so seamlessly that it felt like the other had always been there. Some of Lexa's clothing hung in Clarke's closet, and some of Clarke's art supplies found a home in Lexa's previously unused guest room, where the furniture was now covered in drop cloths to protect it from paint spatter when Clarke was too consumed by her muse to pay attention to where stray drips might be going. 

Lexa found herself spending less time at the office and yet accomplishing more, and far from chastising her for not giving the company as much of her time as she previously had, they praised her for how efficiently she was working, and held her up as an example of how it was possible to shine as an employee while still maintaining a work-life balance. Her reputation as the Ice Queen started to melt, and she didn't fight it. It turned out that companionship, laughter, and regular orgasms did wonders for relieving tension, and it just didn't seem quite so necessary anymore to keep people at arm's length. She was given a raise on top of her year-end bonus, and one of the other women in the company, who wasn't her direct supervisor but who worked closely with him, let slip that she was being considered for yet another promotion. 

When she texted Clarke the news, Clarke insisted on coming to her office to take her out to lunch, even though nothing was definite yet. She had her own good news to share: a friend of a friend knew someone who owned an art gallery, and they were the process of putting together a show featuring the work of up-and-coming artists who represented 'unique voices in the art world.' 

"Which I think means 'not cishet white men'," Clarke translated. "Anyway, they showed the gallery owner some of my work, and they're 'definitely interested'. I need to put together a portfolio to show them."

"That's amazing," Lexa said, getting up out of her seat to hug Clarke, then kissed her even though they were in the middle of a crowded restaurant. "I'm so happy for you!" 

"Thank you," Clarke said. "I'm really excited, and really nervous. I've never been part of a real art show before. I have no idea what they're looking for, so I guess I'll just try to show a variety of things, and hope for the best."

"They would be an idiot not to want your work," Lexa said. "In my completely unbiased opinion." She grinned, and Clarke reached across the table to take her hand. Lexa laced their fingers together. "If there's anything I can do to help in any way, please let me know." 

"Thank you," Clarke said. "You have no idea how much it means..." Her voice trailed off, and Lexa knew that she was thinking about her mother, who hadn't been thrilled when Clarke had ultimately decided to go to art school instead of medical school. "My mother loves me," Clarke had told her once, "but she doesn't really understand me." 

"I love you," Lexa said. "I want you to be happy, and you're never happier than when you're making art."

"Except when I'm with you," Clarke said. 

Lexa smiled. "Is that happier, or equally happy?" she asked. 

Clarke seemed to seriously consider the question. "Equally happy, I think," she said. "Especially considering that pretty much every sketch, every painting, every everything is you, or about you, these days. So really, making art and being with you are practically synonymous." 

Her smile was so bright as she said it that her eyes glowed, the same blue color as the hottest part of a flame, and it the look lit a fire in Lexa that had her pulling Clarke up from the table and into the single stall bathroom for a quickie so intense that Lexa saw stars when she came. 

When they got back to their table their food had arrived and was already starting to get cold. Neither of them cared at all. 

Halfway through dessert, Lexa's phone buzzed, signaling she had a text message. She was tempted to ignore it, figuring it was probably work. She'd told them she was taking an extended lunch, but that wouldn't stop them from calling or texting to try to get her to come back to put out this or that fire. But when it buzzed again, and then a third time, she finally grimaced and pulled it from her pocket. "Sorry," she said to Clarke. "I just—"

"It's fine," Clarke said. "I'll have them bring the bill."

"Wait," Lexa said, her voice a strangled whisper. "It's not work." 

Clarke looked at her, eyes wide with concern. "What's wrong?" she asked. 

Lexa shook her head, trying to form words but they wouldn't come out. Finally she just handed Clarke her phone so she could see for herself.

**LUNA:** They finally did it. They terminated Adria's mother's rights.  
**LUNA:** They're already pushing through the approval for us to adopt her.  
**LUNA:** What are you doing next Friday?

"This is good, right?" Clarke asked. 

Lexa nodded, finally managing to swallow the lump in her throat. "This is better than good," she said. "This is amazing. This is what they've wanted for years now. It's just... it's been such a long, painful process, and I don't think any of us really let ourselves believe it would actually happen, and now..."

"Now it's happening," Clarke said. 

"Now it's happening," Lexa echoed.

"Call your office," Clarke said. "Tell them you need the rest of the afternoon off. We're celebrating." 

Lexa started to protest, because even though it all looked good, even though it seemed like they'd already set a date, something could still go wrong. With the foster system and the courts, it was always possible for something to go wrong. But Clarke was having none of it. "Call them," she insisted. "And then text your sister back."

Lexa did what she was told, calling the office to tell them that something had come up and she wouldn't be back until tomorrow, and also she needed next Friday off. She was surprised when her boss didn't object, just told her that he hoped everything was all right, and to remind him tomorrow about the request for next Friday. Then she texted Luna.

**LEXA:** I'm SO happy for you. ALL of you. Does Adria know yet?

**LUNA:** She's at school. We'll tell her when she gets home.

**LEXA:** It's definite?

**LUNA:** 99%. They've put the hearing to finalize it on the court calendar. Do you think you can get off work?

**LEXA:** Already asked and approved. 

"Ask her if she has any family pictures," Clarke said. "At least of them with Adria."

"I have pictures," Lexa said. "I think I have some from Christmas. Why do you need one?"

Clarke smiled. "That would ruin the surprise."

* * *

Clarke was at her side in the courtroom when Luna and Derrick signed the paperwork that made Adria finally, officially, their daughter. Lexa thought she saw her wipe away a tear, and she was struggling to hold back her own emotions. When they were ushered out into the hallway so the next group could go in, Adria crashed into her, her head digging into her solar plexus so that for a second it was hard to breathe. 

"You're really, really, _really_ my auntie now!" Adria said. "Really for real!"

"I really, really, really am," Lexa said, sniffing. She crouched down to put herself closer to Adria's level and hugged her tight. "I'm so happy for you," she said. "My little fellow Ravenclaw." 

Adria beamed. "I'm happy for me, too," she said. "I've been waiting and waiting for this day for my entire life."

Which was close enough to true that Lexa didn't even try to correct the hyperbole. Five years when you're not quite ten is the majority of your life, or at least the part of it that you actually remember. "We've been waiting too," she said. "But it's finally here. You're part of our family forever, and no one can ever take you away."

They headed to Luna's house to celebrate. Derrick and Luna had outdone themselves cooking, and they would all be eating leftovers (which they would insist on Lexa and Clarke and Anya taking home with them) for days. They'd even made a big chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting (Adria's favorite) that said, "Happy Adoption Day, Adria!" in perfect script. 

"I have something for you," Clarke said, after the cake had been eaten (although there was plenty of that left over, too). "I hope you like it."

Adria's eyes went wide when she saw the big, flat package that Clarke had kept hidden in the car until now. "What is it?" she asked. 

"Open it and find out," Clarke said. 

Adria carefully peeled away the paper, and her mouth dropped open when she saw what was inside: a framed canvas on which Clarke had beautifully recreated a picture Lexa had had, not from Christmas but from some other time, of Adria with Luna and Derrick, all cuddled together like family should be. "Mom, look!" Adria said, turning it around to show her. "Daddy, Daddy, _look_! Look what Clarke did!"

Luna's eyes filled with tears, and if her arms hadn't been full of sleepy toddler, Lexa was sure Clarke would have been hugged within an inch of her life. "It's beautiful," she said. 

"It's _us_ ," Adria said. "It's our family!" But then she turned it around and looked again. "Where's Jakey?" she asked. 

"I'm sorry," Clarke said. "Lexa didn't have any good pictures that had Jakey in them." Which was true, but not the entire reason that she'd eventually chosen to use a slightly older picture from before the little boy's arrival. The main reason Lexa had gently encouraged her to use a picture that was only Adria and her parents for the gift was because there were no guarantees that little Jacob would stay with them long term, and she wanted to the gift to be a reminder of the happiest day of Adria's life (to date, anyway) and not potentially a reminder of their family as it had once been and wasn't anymore.

"Oh," Adria said. "Well she should take one! In case you ever want to do another painting."

"I think that's a great idea," Clarke said. "But maybe we should wait until Jakey's awake?"

Adria looked over and giggled. "Yeah, probably," she said. She set the painting down carefully and wrapped her arms around Clarke. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said. "This is the best present ever." She looked at Lexa. "Sorry," she said. 

Lexa laughed. "It's okay," she said. "One of Clarke's paintings is totally a better present than Hogwarts robes." 

"But I still love them," Adria said, letting go of Clarke to hug Lexa again. 

"I know," Lexa reassured her. "You know what else I know?"

Adria looked up at her. "What?"

"I know I love you." 

"I love you too, Auntie Lexa," Adria said. Then her face scrunched up and she pushed herself up on her toes, looking like she wanted to say something but not too loud. Lexa leaned down so she could whisper into her ear. "Can I love Clarke too?" Adria asked.

The tears that had been threatening since the adoption finally welled up and spilled over. "Well," she said, her voice thick. "I sure do, so I think you can too."

Adria's eyebrows drew together. "Why are you crying?" she asked. "Are they happy tears?"

"They are very, very happy tears," Lexa said. "I'm glad you love Clarke." 

"Will she be my Auntie too someday?" Adria asked. 

"I don't know," Lexa said. She looked over at where Clarke was talking quietly to Anya, the only person in the room who wasn't brimming with joy, although she was putting on a good show. "But I hope so." 

"Can I be in the wedding?" Adria asked. 

Lexa smiled. "If there is a wedding somewhere down the line, then yes, you can be in it." 

"Yay!" Adria cheered. She squeezed her arms around Lexa again, but finally let go when Luna called her over. 

Lexa made her way to where Clarke had just left Anya and took her spot beside her.

"Hey, little sister," Anya said. "How are you?"

"Good," Lexa said. "No, better than good. I'm amazing."

"And humble," Anya quipped. 

Lexa snorted. "You know what I mean," she said. 

"I do," Anya said. "But I would be failing as your older sister if I didn't give you a hard time. It's in the manual. Which, of course, you've never seen, because you're the baby." She grinned. The difference in age between Lexa and Luna was only a few months, but they had never failed to remind her that she was the youngest when they thought she was getting above herself... or any time it suited them, really. It was only teasing, and Lexa hadn't taken real offense to it since she was a young teenager (when she had taken offense to just about everything). 

"How are _you_ , big sister?" Lexa asked. 

Anya sighed. "I've already had this conversation with your girlfriend," she said. "She _is_ your girlfriend, right? You're not being a completely useless lesbian and pretending that you have no clue how she feels about you?"

"You know she is," Lexa said. " _Everyone_ knows she is. Adria just asked if Clarke would be her auntie someday, and could she be in the wedding?"

"What did you tell her?" Anya asked.

Lexa's cheeks went warm. "I told her I hope so, and if there's a wedding at some point, then yes, she could be in it. But it's too soon to even think about any of that, and you're obviously avoiding my question."

"I answered your question," Anya said. "I told you that I already told your obviously better half."

"That means you won't talk to me?" Lexa said. "I'm going to have to get my information secondhand?"

"Yup," Anya said. Her shoulders slumped slightly. "It's just... hard. Being here, seeing this. I'm happy for them, obviously. I know that this is the best thing for Adria, and that they've been fighting to adopt her for a long time. It just makes me wonder how long I'm going to have to fight, and..." she swallowed, "... and whether it's all worth it."

"You still haven't heard anything?" Lexa asked. She'd been contacted weeks ago as one of Anya's references, and she'd answered all of their questions – and there had been plenty of them – honestly, wording everything carefully to make sure to show Anya in the best light possible. 

"I've heard plenty," Anya said. "Mostly about how they think that Tris needs more structure than a single parent can provide, and how with her history they think that she's better off in a more secure facility, blah blah blah. It's like they don't know her at all. They don't listen to anything she says, or that any of us say about her. They've already made up their minds about her and written her off, and they don't care that—" Anya stopped, took her breath, brought her voice down again so she didn't upset Adria. "They don't care that someone wants her. That she could have a home. I thought the goal was to get kids into stable, permanent living situations wherever possible, either back with their families or through adoption. Why are they fighting so hard to make sure that she _doesn't_ get that?"

"I don't know," Lexa said. "It doesn't make sense." She wondered if Anya had said all this to Clarke, and if she had, how Clarke had responded. Clarke didn't understand what it was like to grow up in the system; she'd had a happy home with two loving parents until her father's death. But she was empathetic and good with people, and she genuinely cared about Lexa's family, so she'd probably had something insightful or comforting to say. 

Anya sighed, resting her head on Lexa's shoulder, just for a second before straightening up again. "I've probably said this before, but I'm going to say it again: I'm glad you actually listened for once and took a chance on her. That you didn't just let her slip through your fingers, or intentionally sabotage it just to prove yourself right about being no good at relationships. Because I have never seen you this happy, and from everything I've seen, she's just as happy. You've got a good thing. An _amazing_ thing going for you. So don't fuck it up."

"You always were great at pep talks," Lexa said dryly, but she couldn't help smiling. "I'm trying not to," she added. "I'm really trying." Except it didn't actually _feel_ like trying with Clarke. Getting things right with her didn't feel like it took effort; all she had to do was relax and be herself. In the past the former had been hard, and the latter harder, because she was still figuring out who she was, and spent too much time trying to be who she thought her partner wanted her to be. With Clarke, it felt as easy as breathing (and sometimes easier, because good lord did she have a knack for taking her breath away...).

"I know," Anya said. "I'm proud of you." She put her arm around Lexa and hugged her against her side, pressing a kiss to her temple as she whispered, "Mom would be too."

* * *

In bed that night Lexa turned to face Clarke before the feeling of her tracing patterns on her back (along with the lingering endorphins in her system) could lull her to sleep. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she said. "But I'm curious what you said to Anya?"

Clarke's forehead furrowed. "About...?"

"Tris," Lexa said, then realized that maybe she'd been making assumptions about the conversation that her lover had had with her sister. 

Clarke smiled, but there was something sad in it. "What a mess," she said. "I don't understand why they're giving her a hard time. I guess I get that they could be concerned about a single parent who works full time maybe not being able to devote as much time as the child might need, especially a child that they have deemed to be 'difficult', but..." She shook her head. "She's what, twelve?"

Lexa nodded. "Almost thirteen. Seventh grade."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Clarke said. "What kid that age _isn't_ difficult?" Lexa felt Clarke's fingers digging into her back and she stroked Clarke's hair in response, trying to calm her down, realizing maybe it hadn't been the best thing to bring up when they'd both been so content a moment before. "Anyway, I just said she'd done everything that she could do, and I was sure that they would see sense soon. And that they would be idiots to not place Tris with her when she obviously wants her, and Tris wants to be with her." Clarke paused. "Tris _does_ want to be with her, doesn't she?"

"Yes," Lexa said. "It's the whole reason she is where she is. The reason they think she's 'difficult' and needs to be a more secure facility is because she ran away from home. Except she wasn't running away from home. She was running _towards_ home."

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked. 

Lexa twined herself around Clarke, pulling her closer so that they were sharing a pillow and there were very few parts of them that weren't touching. She drew the covers around them and kissed Clarke softly. "Tris was one of Luna and Derrick's foster kids," she said. "They got her... maybe about a year and a half ago? I don't remember exactly. She had been in and out of the system a couple of times already, but family services was still hoping that they could successfully reunite her with her mother. Tris was pretty closed off and angry when she first arrived, but it's kind of hard to stay pissed off around Luna and Derrick, y'know? And even though we were all a little worried about how she would get along with Adria, she seemed to take to having a little sister pretty well. They weren't BFFs, but they were good with each other. The only fights were the usual petty sibling squabbles that you would expect with any two kids. So things were looking good." 

"Then what happened?" Clarke asked, when the silence stretched too long.

"Then her mother got her shit together enough that they decided that it would be okay for her to get visitation... and when that wasn't a disaster, they gave her custody again. Tris didn't want to go. She'd been through this before and she knew how it was going to end. But no one would listen to her. Luna and Derrick tried to argue that it was too soon, that they should do increased visitation first, try to ease into it, but..." Lexa squeezed her eyes shut, taking a breath and forcing herself to relax her hands from the fists they were forming. "'Reunification is always the goal,' they were told, and Tris was taken – literally kicking and screaming – from their house and dumped back with her mother. Who did the same thing she did every damn time: she held it together for a couple of months, and then fell apart again. Started neglecting her, blaming her for everything, just..." Another pause, another breath, and Clarke's lips brushed her cheeks, kissing away the tears she hadn't even realized had squeezed themselves from behind her eyelids. "So she ran away. Stole money from her mom and got a bus ticket that would bring her back here. She was trying to get back to Luna and Derrick." Lexa opened her eyes. "She was trying to come _home_." 

"But it didn't work," Clarke said.

"No," Lexa said. "It didn't."

"They didn't put her back with her mother, did they?" Clarke asked. "They're not _that_ stupid?"

Lexa let out a soft, bitter laugh. "You underestimate them," she said. "The police caught her at the bus station and brought her right back to her mother, who had called them less because her child was missing and more because her child had stolen money from her." Her jaw ached from clenching it and she tried to relax. This was all in the past, after all... except it still wasn't resolved, so it didn't feel very much like the past. "Yes, Family Services looked into it, but they decided to give it one last chance... and Tris tried to run away again. Not even a week later. Her mother had left her alone for over 24 hours with no food in the house, no money... so she just picked up and left, and this time she did make it to Luna and Derrick's, and they took her in, obviously, but they had to report it. Things were finally starting to happen – positive things – toward them being able to adopt Adria, and they didn't want to jeopardize that by not reporting that Tris was at their house. It was decided – not by them, obviously, they would have taken her back – that Tris needed to be in a more secure place to keep her from running away again while they figured out what to do about her mother. When they finally managed to contact her again, though, she voluntarily gave up her parental rights. She said she was done with all of the court's bullshit just to keep an ungrateful little bitch who obviously thought she was too good for her own mother – and no, I'm not paraphrasing – and the state could keep her."

"Holy..." Clarke's forehead furrowed. "She can do that?"

"Yes," Lexa said. "She can do that. If she hadn't, they might have terminated her rights anyway, for failure to comply with the courts." She brushed her lips against Clarke's lightly. "It seems shitty, but sometimes it's better than the kid continually getting yanked back into a bad situation."

"I guess," Clarke said. "I just don't understand how a person can even... think like that. Act like that. About their own child."

"I don't know," Lexa said. "I know her mother was young when she had her, didn't have a lot of support." She shrugged. "It's not really an excuse. Anyway, they put Tris in a group home, and that's where she's been ever since. They've tried to locate extended family and came up empty, or if they found anyone they weren't in a position to take her, and... here we are."

Clarke tucked her face into the curve of Lexa's neck, and Lexa could feel her breath against her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms. "Do you think they'll let Anya take her?" she asked. 

"I don't know," Lexa said. "I hope so, but I don't know."

"I thought I did," Clarke said. "I thought it was obvious. But hearing all that..."

"Don't give up hope," Lexa said. "We need at least one optimist in this family, and we're all too close to it to be that person right now." 

Clarke looked at her and forced a small smile. "I accept your nomination for Designated Optimist, then," she said. "And as my first order of business, I say that very soon, they'll realize that this is the best thing for Tris and that's what's important, and she'll get to come home."

"I second the motion," Lexa said.

* * *

Lexa didn't believe in a higher power, exactly, or fate or destiny or any of that. But then things happened that made her wonder if there might be some force out there that pushed the pieces of the puzzle around until they slipped into alignment. Because on Tuesday, Anya got a call from Tris's caseworker saying that they had met about Tris again the day before, and some of the members of her team had had a change of heart and thought that moving her into a home setting might be a viable option after all. 

"They're doing a final home check tomorrow and meeting again on Thursday," Anya said. "I've got her room all set up for her, so hopefully, if everything goes well, I'll be able to pick her up on Friday."

"We'll keep our fingers crossed for you," Lexa said. 

"You've got this," Clarke added, because Lexa had put the call on speaker. 

"Thanks," Anya said. "I should probably go double check everything, just in case."

"I'm sure it's fine," Lexa said. "She's not a baby who's going to eat detergent... okay, bad example, but you know what I mean." 

Anya snorted. "I'll let you know when I have news." 

"Everything is going to work out," Clarke said. 

"From your mouth to the court's ears," Anya said and hung up.

* * *

Lexa woke up early Friday. She hadn't slept well the night before, partially because she was nervous that something would go wrong at the last minute with Anya and Tris, even though all of the i's had been dotted and the t's crossed the day before, but also because it was her first Valentine's Day with Clarke, and she wanted everything to be perfect. 

She left her sleeping in the bed and crept out into the kitchen, pulling pans from the cupboards and ingredients from the pantry as quietly as she could, mixing everything by hand because the mixer was too loud (and she honestly wasn't sure how to use it; it had come with the kitchen and had just sat and collected dust since), and then carefully ladled batter into the pan in heart shapes, dotting some of them with raspberry and others with chocolate chips. She warmed up the heart-shaped frittatas she'd made the day before and hidden, then poured juice, coffee and tea into glasses and mugs she'd bought special for the occasion. (They were decorated with hearts, naturally.) She'd even looked up on Pinterest how to make bacon into hearts – shape them first and bake them in the oven, not a pan – to complete the meal.

It was probably overkill (okay, it was _definitely_ overkill) but go big or go home, right? She was fully prepared for Clarke to laugh at her being so extra, and really, there were far worse ways to start the morning. When everything was done she put it all on a tray and carried it into the bedroom, where Clarke was just beginning to stir. She sat up when she saw that Lexa was carrying a tray and smoothed out the blankets so she could set it down. 

"Oh my god," Clarke said, her hand going to her mouth, and Lexa could tell that she was stifling giggles. "This is... wow." She leaned over and kissed Lexa. "Thank you," she said. "I love it."

"I love you," Lexa answered. "Happy Valentine's Day." 

"Happy Valentine's Day," Clarke responded, and they dug into the food before it got cold.

They were both just a little late to work that morning, but no one said anything, at least not to Lexa. She was surprised – and yet not – when shortly after she arrived she received a flower delivery that was not just the typical dozen red roses, but a riotous bouquet of roses and all of her other favorites that was so large she had to set it on the little conference table in her office because it took up too much space to keep it on her desk. A few hours later it was followed by chocolates from the extra fancy place that she loved but rarely treated herself to, even though she could afford it. 

Around lunchtime she received a text from Clarke that was just a string of hearts and heart-eye and kiss emojis, followed by a picture of a bouquet of art supplies. Lexa had gone back to the shop where she'd gotten Clarke's gift back at Christmas, and a couple of the employees had been more than willing to take on the task of turning paintbrushes and tubes of paint, along with anything else they thought might be a good addition based on what she'd told them about the art Clarke did, into a bouquet. She hadn't seen the finished product, just paid the bill, but from the looks of it, they'd really outdone themselves. 

They'd made dinner reservations, but Lexa was starting to wonder if, by the end of the day, they were really going to want to be out in public anywhere...

And then another text popped up on her phone and it was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. 

**ANYA:** 911 CALL ME

Lexa shut her office door and called Anya immediately, because her sister wouldn't say it was an emergency unless it really was. Anya picked up on the first ring. "I need your help."


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa could hear the frustration in Anya's voice, and the barely suppressed panic. She should have known that this was all too good to be true, that things were going too well. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction and all that. "What's wrong?" she asked. 

"Tris won't leave," Anya said. "She says she can't."

"Won't and can't aren't the same," Lexa said, which wasn't a particularly useful response, but neither one made sense. Tris hated the group home where she was staying; she'd made that abundantly clear to Anya on more than one occasion. Why would she suddenly change her mind? Was she just afraid of leaving something that, although hated, was familiar, for something unknown? But Anya wasn't unknown. Tris hadn't lived with her before, but she knew her, knew their family, knew that she would be safe with them, and cared for, and—

"There's a boy," Anya said. "Not like that," she added hastily, before Lexa could scoff at a middle school romance being a reason for Tris to blow what was probably her last chance to find a real home. "He's only been here for a week or so, but they became friends quickly – you know how it can be – and she doesn't want to leave him here alone."

Lexa rubbed the bridge of her nose, not sure why Anya had called _her_ about this. What the hell did she know about convincing tweens to leave their friends behind? As good as she could be at keeping people at arm's length, once they got inside her perimeter, Lexa was terrible at letting them go. Even when they wanted to be set free. "Tell her that you'll try to arrange for them to be able to visit?" she suggested. 

"I tried that," Anya said. "She said that it's not about seeing him, it's about not leaving him here." Anya sighed. "She says she can't leave him here on his own, that she can't leave until he does. And I don't know how to explain to her that if she doesn't leave with me today, if they see it as defiant behavior and she may blow the last chance she's got."

"Just like that," Lexa said. "You explain it to her just like that. It's not... it's not something that's up for negotiation. You're the adult, Anya. You're the _parent_. That's kind of the whole point, right? If you're going to be her foster parent, you're going to have to figure out how to deal with shit like this. And if you can't..." She let it trail off, knowing that Anya didn't need her to fill in the blank. 

"I know," Anya said. "I'm not stupid. I know what I'm getting myself into... or I thought I did. This has just thrown a wrench in the works and yeah, I know that in the end I can force her to come with me, to leave him behind, but I really don't want to start things off with her hating me if I can avoid it."

"She'll get over it," Lexa said. "She might hate you for a little while, but eventually she'll realized that you did what was best for her, and she'll get over it."

"Would you have gotten over it if someone had taken you away from Luna, after you ended up back together?" Anya asked. "Even someone you loved?"

"There wasn't—"

"Hypothetically speaking," Anya said. "Say... say you had gotten taken away from Mom for some reason, and reunited with... or even just met Luna, but later on, after..." Now it was Anya letting Lexa fill in the blank, and Lexa felt a shiver go through her that was a mix of anguish and rage. "Say you met Luna while you were away from Mom, and then you had the opportunity to come home again, but you had to leave Luna behind. Would you have gotten over it?"

Lexa rubbed at her face. The trouble with knowing someone for most of your life, with growing up with them, loving them enough to let them get behind all your defenses, is that they knew where all your buttons were and exactly how to push them. "What do you want me to say, Anya?" she growled. 

"It's not what I want you to say," Anya said. "It's what I want you to do. What I hope you'll want to do."

Lexa's stomach dropped like she'd just gone over a hill on a rollercoaster. "Whatever it is, just say it," she said. She'd always been a rip the Band-Aid off quickly kind of person, and she was pretty sure that whatever Anya was about to say, about to ask, was going to hurt like hell.

* * *

**LEXA:** I may need to take a rain check on tonight.  
 **LEXA:** I'm sorry.   
**LEXA:** Something came up and   
**LEXA:** It's a long fucking story and I don't have time to explain right now.  
 **LEXA:** But I love you so much and I swear I'll make it up to you.

_I just don't know when, or where, or how._

Because Lexa's life was about to get turned on its head, and more than anything she wanted to talk to Clarke about it... maybe to have Clarke try to talk her out of it, but there wasn't time. 

Everything was happening so fast – _too_ fast – and she felt helpless to stop the series of events that had been set in motion when Tris dug in her heels and told Anya that she wouldn't leave unless her friend left too.

Her phone chimed as she put her car into drive, and she glanced at the screen while she waited for traffic to clear so she could make her turn. 

**CLARKE:** Is everything okay?

And then a second later:

**CLARKE:** Is everyONE okay?

Lexa eased her car into traffic, taking deep breaths in and releasing them slowly, repeating the cycle until she didn't feel quite so much like screaming and crawling out of skin that suddenly felt too tight (or maybe that was just the stupid lacy bra she'd put on that morning for Clarke's enjoyment later that was now probably pointless). 

She at least owed her an explanation. 

Lexa tapped the button on her steering wheel that allowed her to access her phone. "Call Clarke," she said, enunciating carefully so that she didn't end up calling someone she really didn't want to talk to. She didn't have that many contacts programmed into her phone, but with the way her day was going...

The phone rang twice, and then Clarke picked up, sounding like she'd just sprinted across a building to get to it. "What's going on?" she asked. 

"I don't have a lot of time to explain," Lexa said, "but the short version is that Anya went to pick up Tris and she refused to leave behind her friend and I'm a fucking sucker who never learned how to say no to her sisters or a sad story, and, well... I may be taking in a twelve-year-old boy? Temporarily. But possibly more or less immediately."

_And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry because I don't know what this means for us. I don't know what this means for **me** , but I definitely don't know what it means for us, if there's even an us after I ruin Valentine's Day. And, y'know, become a mother._

The thought made her still queasy, and she sucked in another few breaths, waiting for Clarke's response. She was quiet for so long that Lexa looked at her phone to make sure that it was still connected. _Please,_ she thought. _Say something. Say **anything**._

She finally heard Clarke inhale, and then her voice, calm as if the entire foundation of their relationship wasn't crumbling out from underneath her. "Is there any chance of getting a slightly longer version?" she asked. 

Lexa exhaled. "The slightly longer version is that his name is Aden, and he ended up in foster care about a week ago when his guardian chose her abusive boyfriend over him."

"She can do that?" Clarke asked.

"Yes," Lexa said, not bothering to try to hide her anger at a woman she would probably never meet. "I got the impression that she didn't really want him in the first place, but there was no one else to take him when his mother died about a year ago. I guess she was his godmother or something? I don't know how that all works, and I don't have all the details, only what Anya got from Tris, who I assume got it from Aden directly, but the bottom line is that because of the way he was treated by the boyfriend, he's now not really comfortable around men."

Lexa heard Clarke's sharp inhale and then nothing, and she realized too late what Clarke was really thinking. "Not that," she said. "Not 'the worst bad thing', as Tris says. He wasn't molested. Just..." She chewed the inside of her cheek, not sure how much to tell Clarke, how much of it was really hers to tell. But it was gnawing at her, and if it was going to ruin things for her to do this, at least she could try to make Clarke understand why she felt like she had to. "Anya said that Tris told her that the asshole pushed him around, hit him, tried to 'toughen him up', and she's afraid the other boys will treat him the same way, and the men in charge will just break him down more, and from everything Malachi ever said about the time he spent in group homes? She's probably not wrong."

"Shit," Clarke said. 

"Yeah. It was only meant to be short-term, a few days, but they're having a hard time finding a placement for him. I don't know the statistics, but it's probably safe to say that most foster homes are straight couples, and they're concerned that placing him in a home where there's a male authority figure, even a good one, even one like Derrick, might have him so on edge that he just shuts down, which isn't conducive to him being able to process the trauma that he's been through. And placing a teenage boy, even a younger one, in a home with a single woman is a tough ask. A lot of them are wary of taking that on."

"And you're not?" Clarke asked.

Lexa laughed without humor. "Oh, I'm fucking terrified," she said. "But not of him. Just... of taking it on at all." 

She'd thought she'd had an out, because she was only certified for respite care, not actual foster placements, until Anya reminded her that they'd both gone through the process to get certified for emergency placements. In the event that anything ever happened to Luna and Derrick that made them temporarily unable to care for any children that they had placed with them for longer than what would be considered respite care, either (or both, depending on ages and genders of the children in question) of them would be able to take them in until Luna and Derrick could take them back, so they wouldn't risk losing them.

Luna hadn't asked them to do it; they'd done it of their own volition. They knew how much the kids that they cared for meant to their sister and brother-in-law, and having been in the system themselves, they knew how hard a home and family like that could be to come by, and how easy it was for kids to get lost in the shuffle when things happened. They weren't going to let that happen to Adria, or Tris, or any of the others that came into their lives, if they could do anything to prevent it. 

Now that act of altruism, or sorority, or whatever you wanted to call it, was coming back to bite Lexa in the ass. 

"You said it's temporary," Clarke said. "So... just until they find another home that works for him?"

"That's the idea," Lexa said. "Nothing's definite right now. I'm going to meet him. I'm not..." She sighed. "When being in the system is all you've ever known, you get used to it. You learn to roll with it. You just... go numb, I guess. You become a number, not a name, even to yourself sometimes. But this kid... he had a completely normal life for the first eleven years. Then it all started falling apart and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Now he's here, and he's probably scared out of his mind, not knowing what's going to happen to him, and... I want him to have a say. I _need_ him to have a say. I won't just be another thing that happens to him." 

"Okay," Clarke said. "That's..." A long pause. "If there's anything you need, anything I can do, just let me know."

"I will," Lexa said. "Thank you." And then, soft and rife with uncertainty because she didn't know how it would be received, "I love you." 

"I love you too," Clarke said, and she didn't sound uncertain at all, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. "Call me later?"

"I will," Lexa said. "I promise."

* * *

"Thank you," Anya whispered as she wrapped her arms around Lexa and hugged her tight. "I know I had no right to ask, but—"

"But you asked anyway," Lexa said. She sighed and hugged her back. "It's fine," she told her. "It's just until they can figure out something better anyway." 

"Ms. Woods?"

Lexa let go of Anya and turned to look at the woman who had addressed her. She was medium height, with medium blonde hair... everything about her seemed pretty average, really, except that she was young, which might have been why she looked less harried than Lexa was used to seeing people who had any involvement with the foster care system. She offered her hand. "Harper McIntyre," she said. "I'm one of the members of Aden's team. We were so happy when Ms. Forester told us that she might know someone who would be willing to act as an emergency foster home for him while we work on finding something more permanent that fits his... particular needs. I understand that you had some concerns that you wanted to discuss?"

"Not with you," Lexa said, her tone sharper than she intended. Her nerves were getting the better of her, and she needed to reel herself in before she said the wrong thing in the wrong tone to the wrong person and sabotaged the house of cards they were ever so precariously building. "That didn't come out right," she said, forcing a smile, trying to play it off. "What I should say is, I had asked for the opportunity to meet Aden first, get to know him a little bit, see how he feels about the possibility of coming to stay with me rather than staying here. I know that ultimately it's not up to him, but I think it would be better for everyone involved if he's given agency in the decision instead of just having it thrust on him." 

Harper's expression shifted from concerned to bemused as Lexa spoke, but finally her smile slipped back into place. "That sounds like a great idea," she said. "I'll show you into one of our small meeting rooms – where the children meet one-on-one with caseworkers, therapists, that sort of thing, and then I'll go get him." 

"Thank you," Lexa said. She followed her down a hallway and was grateful when they stopped at a room that had an adult-sized table and chairs. She hadn't been looking forward to figuring out how to sit in a toddler-sized chair in a pencil skirt. She glanced at her reflection in a window and wished she'd had the time to change, to put on something that was less professional, less potentially intimidating, more... her. More Lexa, less Ms. Woods. 

There was nothing for it. She sat down on one side of the table and waited. Harper was back a few minutes later, and she nudged a boy into the room. "Aden, this is Ms. Woods. Ms. Woods, this is Aden. I'll leave you two to chat. If you need anything, I'll be just outside." When she left, she left the door open a crack; there were probably rules about that kind of thing. 

Aden wasn't what Lexa had expected. She honestly wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but he didn't fit the mental picture that she'd formed. He was smaller, slighter that she'd thought he would be, but at the same time, he wasn't as downtrodden as she'd pictured, and at first glance there were no visible marks that give away what had happened to him. He kept his chin tucked and his shoulders pulled in, but when she caught his eye, he didn't look away, and a nervous smile flickered at the corners of his mouth.

"You can call me Lexa," she said. "Ms. Woods makes me sound old." 

One corner of his mouth tugged up a little higher. "Okay," he said. "I'm Aden." His cheeks flushed. "Um, sorry. You knew that."

"Don't be sorry," Lexa said. "Do you want to sit?" 

He pulled out a chair and sat down, his posture a little stiff, but not like a kid who was afraid of being cornered and was prepared to bolt at the first sign of trouble... just one who was trying to be on his best behavior. Lexa sat across from him, trying to appear relaxed even though she was anything but. Now that she had a face to go with the name, now that Aden was a person and not just a few fragments of a story, she knew she couldn't mess this up. She had to do everything she could to make this work... as long as it was what Aden wanted. 

"Do you know why you're here?" she asked. 

"Because I—" Aden's voice cracked, and pink crept from his cheeks up to his ears as he cleared his throat. "Because I'm going to go live with you?"

"That's a possibility," Lexa said. "But I thought before anything was decided for sure, we should get to know each other a little bit, make sure we think that we'll get along okay. I know that you've been through a lot in this past year, and I want you to be in a situation where you're comfortable... or as comfortable as you can be when you're living with someone who's basically a stranger."

Aden nodded slowly. "That... sounds good," he said. "I guess... they probably already told you about me?"

"I know a little bit," Lexa said. "I know what Tris told my sister Anya."

Aden's eyes widened slightly. "You're—you know Tris?"

Lexa smiled. "I do," she said. "I don't know how much she's told you about herself, and it's not really my place to tell her story for her, but I think she would be okay with me telling you that before she was placed here, one of her foster homes was with my other sister, Luna. So Anya and I met her when she was living there." She paused, trying to figure out how to approach this so that he didn't feel like he was being put on the spot or interrogated, and realized that the best way to do that was not make it about him at all. At least not at first. "Actually, that's probably a good place to start: with me and my sisters." 

She leaned back in her chair and was happy to see that Aden relaxed a little as well. She didn't know if he was intentionally mirroring her or if it was subconscious, but it seemed like a good sign. "I spent my entire life in foster care," she told him. "I don't remember a time when I wasn't in the system. I met my sister Luna when we were young – six or seven – and we were in the same home, along with her brother Malachi, for a year, maybe a little longer. Then our foster parents weren't able to take care of us anymore, and we all got moved to different homes. When I was ten, I got placed in the house where Anya was staying, which was by far the best place I'd lived. Two years later, and about four years after I'd lost track of her, Luna got placed there, too, and I was over the moon – no pun intended – to see her again. We got lucky, because after that, none of us got moved again. We got to grow up together, and to have a real home and a real family for the first time. Even after we grew up and moved out, we stayed close, and we got even closer after our mom died."

Aden looked down, appearing to study the grain of the fake wood tabletop. "Do you miss her?" he asked. "Your mom?"

"Every day," Lexa said. 

"Me too," he said, glancing up at her. 

She gave him a small smile. "I'm not going to tell you that it gets easier," she said, "because you've probably heard that a million times." 

Aden nodded. "At least a million."

"I hated when people said that to me," Lexa said. "It didn't make me feel any better, because they couldn't tell me _when_. They couldn't tell me _how long_. That's what I wanted to know, and no one had an answer for that."

"Did you ever get an answer?" Aden asked. "Did you ever find out how long?"

Lexa shook her head. "No," she said, "because there is no answer. Because it's not like a hill, where you're at the bottom and things are hard until you reach the top and suddenly it's easy. It's like a series of hills, and today you're pedaling up and tomorrow you reach the top and it's a little easier, but the day after that you're going uphill again, and then next week you're coasting along on a downhill, feeling better than you have in a long time, and then boom, you hit the bottom of the next hill and it's hard again. And sometimes you know why you're suddenly going uphill again, and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you hear something or see something or smell something that reminds you of them, and that might make it a hard day, a day where all you can feel is how much you miss them, but then sometimes... sometimes you'll be reminded of a time when you were happy together, a fun thing that you did, a joke that you shared, and it makes you miss them, but you can also remember all the happiness, and... shit." She swiped at her eyes, fumbling in her purse for a tissue. "Sorry," she said. "I shouldn't swear."

"My mom swore a lot," Aden said, nudging a box of tissues toward her. "We had a swear jar and every time she swore she had to put money in it, and it was a different amount for different words. The f-word was a dollar." He flashed her a shy, crooked smile. "I don't think she really tried very hard to stop," he said. "Because when the jar get filled up, we would use the money to do something fun. I got to pick because I was the one whose young ears were being damaged or something." 

Lexa fought back a smile. "So you think your mother would swear just to put money in the jar to save up faster?"

Aden nodded. "Yup."

Lexa laughed. "It sounds like your mom was pretty cool," she said. 

"She was the best," Aden said. His smile faded and he looked down again. "Then she got cancer. She still tried, but..."

Lexa took her wallet from her purse and put a single on the table. "Fuck cancer," she said. She found another and slid it over to him, and he slapped it down on top of hers.

" _Fuck_ cancer," he said. 

Lexa knew then that they were going to get along fine, for however long he was a part of her life.

"Is there anything else that you want to know?" she asked him, after they'd talked a little about lighter things, like what Lexa did for work and what subjects Aden liked in school, and their favorite TV shows and movies and that kind of thing. "Anything else that might help you make your decision?"

Aden bit his lip, and his gaze skated around the room before finally landing back on Lexa, but on her hands rather than her face. "Do you, um, do you have a boyfriend?" he asked. 

The question surprised Lexa. Not because she didn't understand _why_ he was asking, but because he'd had the courage to ask it. And she realized that the answer was important, not just to reassure him that what had happened with his previous guardian wouldn't happen again, but because if her orientation was going to be a problem for him, she needed to know it now. 

"I don't," she said, "but I have a girlfriend."

Aden looked up at her, studying her for a moment like he couldn't quite make sense of her answer, but finally he nodded. "What's her—is it okay if I ask about her?"

"Of course," Lexa said. "And if you were going to ask what her name is, it's Clarke. She's an artist, but would you believe that when I met her, she was working as one of Santa's elves at the mall?"

Now Aden was looking at her like she had two heads, but he was also grinning. "Do you have a picture?" he asked. "Pics or it didn't happen."

Lexa laughed. "I don't have any pictures of the elf suit," she said, "but Clarke might." She pulled out her phone and tapped on the screen, bringing up her photos to show him one of her favorites, of Clarke standing at her easel, paint-spattered and grinning over her shoulder. "That's her."

"She looks nice," Aden said. 

"She is," Lexa said. "If you decide to come stay with me, you can meet her. If you want to."

"Okay," Aden said. He traced one finger along the edge of the table and was quiet for what felt like several minutes but probably wasn't more than one. He finally looked up. "Do you want me to?" he asked. 

Lexa wasn't sure if he was asking whether she wanted him to come stay with her or to meet Clarke, but the answer was the same either way. "Yes."

"Okay," he said again. "I want that too."

"Then let's go tell them," Lexa said. She slid the two dollars that were still in the middle of the table toward him. "You keep those," she said. "When we get home, you can put them in the swear jar."

"You have a swear jar?" he asked. 

"I do now."

* * *

Lexa walked out with Anya and Tris, and a date with Harper for a final home check the next morning. As long as they didn't find anything wrong, Aden would be dropped off early tomorrow afternoon. Their reassurance that Aden was only going to be there for one more night, and Aden telling Tris that he would be okay without her, were thankfully enough to convince her that she could go home with Anya that day. 

"Lexa?" she said, playing with the handle of the suitcase that Anya had brought for her so that she didn't have to pack her things in garbage bags. 

"What, Tris?" Lexa asked. 

"Thank you. For doing this. I know you probably didn't want to, but he's really a good kid! Not like me. He—"

"You're a great kid," Lexa said. "And a really great friend."

Tris nodded, still not looking entirely convinced. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"Tris, you don't have to make anything up to me," Lexa told her. "You don't owe me anything. If I really didn't feel comfortable doing this, I wouldn't. I love you, and I love Anya, and I would do anything for you, but I would never put a kid in a situation where he feels unwanted, because he's already been through enough, and I know what it's like. So please, don't apologize or feel guilty or any of that, okay? I'm glad that I'm able to help him, and you should be proud of yourself for sticking to your guns and standing up for him so that he ended up in a better situation."

"Even if you were a little dramatic about it," Anya said, ruffling her hair gently. "Come on. We have a few errands to run on our way home." 

Tris groaned. "Bye, Lexa," she said, rolling her eyes. 

"Bye, Tris," Lexa said, rolling her own back, and Tris grinned and loaded her suitcase into the trunk of Anya's car.

Anya hugged Lexa. "Thank you," she said. "If you hadn't stepped up, I don't know what would have happened."

"Good thing you know how to lay on a guilt trip, then," Lexa said, smirking. "Seriously, though, I meant what I said. If it was really something I didn't feel like I could do, I wouldn't do it. Because it's not about me, it's about him, and if I'd met him and we didn't have any connection at all, I would have said no. But that didn't happen, so... we're good. Everyone gets to go home happy."

Anya nodded and squeezed her again, then let her go to head to her car. "Good luck tomorrow," she said. 

"Thanks," Lexa said. "Good luck to you with that one."

Anya snorted. "I'm gonna need it."

Lexa slid into her car and called Clarke out of habit; it was what she did most days when she was at the office, to make plans for the evening, or confirm them if they'd already decided where they were going or whose house they would be spending the night at. 

... Which wasn't a conversation they would be having again for a while, she realized with a pang. She almost hung up, but Clarke picked up just as she was reaching for the button to disconnect. 

"Hey!" Clarke said, her voice bright. "How did it go?"

"Fine," Lexa said, then rolled her eyes at herself, because 'fine' was such a meaningless word, and she didn't want to sound like a sullen teenager being asked about her day at school. "I met him and he seems like a good kid who's been dealt a bad hand, but after talking to him a little bit, I think that we'll be able to live together pretty comfortably. They need to do another home check, since it's been a while since I got certified and I haven't actually had any kids placed with me, but the case worker that I talked to said it was pretty much a formality, and unless they find something seriously wrong, they'll bring him tomorrow afternoon."

"Wow," Clarke said. "I didn't realize things would move that fast."

"That tends to be how things go, in my experience. Either things drag on forever, or everything happens all at once. There's no in between." 

"Are you excited?" Clarke asked. 

"No," Lexa admitted. "But I'm not dreading it, either, which I think counts as a qualified success." 

Clarke was quiet for a moment. "Does that mean you're free tonight after all?"

Lexa grimaced. She'd forgotten all about the plans Clarke had made that she'd told her she might have to take a rain check on. "I should really get the place ready," she said. "Just... make sure everything looks good."

"Right," Clarke said. "Of course. I should probably come get my stuff, so I'll meet you there?"

Lexa's heart sank. "Oh. Yeah. I should be there in ten minutes. Maybe fifteen, depending on traffic." She'd kept meaning to give Clarke a key to her place, but she'd never gotten around to it. Now she was glad that she'd procrastinated the task, because it meant that Clarke couldn't just go in and take her stuff and leave before Lexa saw her. Even if that was probably what Clarke wanted. 

"I'll see you then," Clarke said. 

"See you," Lexa said, and hung up, trying not to let the darkness that had formed a pit in her stomach spread and consume her. There would be time for that later, but she couldn't fall apart now, while she was stuck behind the wheel. She had to at least keep it together until after Clarke had come and gone, and get it all out of her system before tomorrow when the social worker showed up. 

No good deed went unpunished, and all that.

Clarke was waiting for her when she got to her apartment, and Lexa flinched away when she leaned in to kiss her. Clarke actually took a step back, looking like Lexa had slapped her in the face. "What's wrong?" she asked. 

Lexa pressed her lips together. "Just..." She twisted her house keys from her key ring and thrust them at Clarke. "I'm going to go for a walk. When you're done, just leave them in my car, and I'll..." She couldn't even finish. She just turned and started to walk away before Clarke could see the tears in her eyes.

But Clarke caught her arm and pulled her around, lines etched deep between her brows. "What are you even..." Her jaw dropped and comprehension dawned. "Did you really think..." Clarke stopped again. "Have you been thinking all day that I might _leave_ you because of this?" Lexa's silence was answer enough. Clarke pulled her in and kissed her, hard, and then more gently. "Lexa, no. No. I said I should come and get my stuff because Aden needs a room that is actually a bedroom, not an impromptu art studio. I only meant that I should come clean up my mess so that you don't have to do it for me. I'm not... I would _never_... Not like _that_. And certainly not because..." She shook her head. "Did you forget that I worked as a Christmas elf? _Voluntarily._ There were plenty of other seasonal jobs I could have gotten. I chose that one. I don't have a problem with kids, and I don't have a problem with you having a kid. Sure, it complicates things a little, but it's temporary, right? Even if it wasn't..." Clarke shook her head again. "Oh, Lexa..."

"Come upstairs," Lexa said, her voice husky with swallowed tears. "If you still—"

"I still want to," Clarke said. "Always."

* * *

Lexa trailed her fingers along Clarke's spine, from the base up to her nape and down again, a slow, lazy movement that used the last of her energy. She could feel Clarke's breath against her collarbone and throat, slow and steady like she was seconds away from sleep. 

"What does this mean for us?" Clarke asked. "Aden coming to stay here... what does it actually mean?"

Lexa brushed her lips against Clarke's forehead. "I don't know," she admitted. "Luna and Derrick were already together when they started fostering, already married, and Mom never dated, so I don't know what the rules are. I'll have to find out. But he's probably going to need a few days to settle in, at least, and I'm going to need to be here to help him with that."

"Of course," Clarke said. "That makes sense." She traced her fingertips along Lexa's ribs. "I'll miss you."

"We can still talk," Lexa said. "Just..."

"I know," Clarke said, "but I'll miss _this_."

"So will I," Lexa said. "But it's not forever..." Clarke's lips met hers, and it turned out she had a little bit of energy left after all.

* * *

Lexa was glad that she'd had the foresight to set an early alarm for the next morning, because she hadn't gotten as much done the night before as she'd hoped. She made breakfast while Clarke packed up her art supplies, stowing some of them on the top shelf of Lexa's closet, but setting most of it by the door to take with her. "I have projects I should be working on anyway," she said. "Maybe this is the universe's way of telling me, 'Get to work, Griffin.'" 

"He asked about you," Lexa said as they sat down together to eat. 

"He did?"

"Sort of. He actually asked if I had a boyfriend, and I said no, but I have a girlfriend. I showed him your picture and he said you look nice. He seemed open to the idea of meeting you."

"I look forward to meeting him then," Clarke said. "Are you still nervous?"

Lexa nodded. "Part of me thinks that I've lost my mind. Even though I met him and we got along fine. Even though I told Tris and Anya that I was glad that I was able to help him, and that if I really didn't think I could do it, if I thought it would be a bad fit, I wouldn't... I still can't help thinking that I'm getting in over my head, and that I'm going to be flailing the entire time and if I'm not careful I'll take him down with me."

"That's not going to happen," Clarke said. "I don't think there's anything you can't do if you decide you want to do it. If you want to help him, if you want to be a good... role model, then you will be, and you'll both be fine." 

"I hope so," Lexa said. "He deserves to be somewhere where he knows he's safe. Where he knows he'll be looked out for. I want to be able to give him that. He's been let down enough times. I can't do that to him again. And I can't let down Anya. Or Tris. She tried to say that she owed me for doing this, but I'm the one who owes _her_. If not for her and her mistletoe, I wouldn't have _you_."

Clarke snorted. "Really?" she said. "Do you really think, if we hadn't kissed under the mistletoe, that I would have just let you drop me off and drive away into the sunset, never to be seen or heard from again?"

Lexa blinked, not sure how to respond to that.

Clarke laughed. "Anya's right. Sometimes you really are a useless lesbian."

"Wow," Lexa said, knowing she was teasing. "Rude." 

"Seriously, Lexa. Did you really think I came up to you in the store that day because I cared about the fate of a pair of _shoes_? I mean, maybe a little, because you looked sexy as hell in them, but mostly it was an excuse to talk to you." She leaned in, invading Lexa's personal space in a way that made Lexa's nerves light up. "From the minute I saw you, Lexa, I wanted to kiss you. The mistletoe was just an excuse."

* * *

Lexa barely had time to shower and get dressed before Harper was at the door, bright-eyed and beaming. Lexa returned her smile and hoped it wasn't too obvious that she'd scrambled to make sure the place was in order before she got there. She needn't have worried, because Harper's inspection of the place was barely more than a perfunctory once over with the main goal being to ascertain that a bedroom existed for Aden and that it was of sufficient size. With that box checked, she was already headed for the door. "I'm going to go pick him up now," she said. "I'll be back in about an hour."

It was the longest hour of Lexa's life, and she wished that Clarke was there to hold her hand through it. She thought about texting her, but she'd said on her way out that she had a new idea for a painting, and Lexa didn't want to interrupt her if she was working. When the bell rang, she nearly jumped out of her skin, skidding a little on the wood floor as she hurried to answer it. 

"Hi," she said when she saw Aden. "Come on in."

He stepped in and looked around, and like she had with Clarke, she tried to imagine it through his eyes. It was a lot less sterile now than it had been. There were brightly colored throw pillows and a jewel-toned fleece blanket tossed over the back of the couch, and a couple of Clarke's paintings adorned the walls. Family pictures of various permutations and definitions of family had gone up along with them, and those seemed to be what caught Aden's eye most. 

"Well," Harper said. "I'll leave you to it. If either of you need anything, don't hesitate to call." 

"Thank you," Lexa said, and Aden echoed her, sounding distracted. He stepped farther into the space, stopping to look at one of the pictures. "That's Luna and I when we were a little older than you," Lexa said. "And this one here is Anya and Luna at Luna's wedding..." She took him around, telling him who was in each shot. When they got to the last one, she sighed. "That's the three of us with our mom," she said softly. "That was one of the last good days she had." 

"Fuck cancer," Aden said softly. 

"No shit," she answered, and went to get her wallet, pulling out two singles. Aden reached into his own pocket and pulled out the two from the day before, and together they slipped them into the jar that Clarke had created a label for that morning while Lexa was cleaning. 

"Let me show you your room," she said, putting her hand gently on his back and guiding him to the door. "I'm just across the hall."

He stepped inside, looking around. It was pretty basic, and there hadn't been much they could do on short notice to change that, but Lexa saw that Clarke had left one last gift, propped against Aden's pillow, and she wondered when she had had time to make it. She must have gotten up in the middle of the night without Lexa noticing... It was a watercolor of two silhouettes hiking up a hill side-by-side, and at the bottom it said in flowing script, 'Welcome home.'

**Author's Note:**

> Did you think I'd forgotten about this series? Because I hadn't! It just took a while to get back around to it. I hope you enjoyed the Lextra Valentine's Day!
> 
> Also, for those who read the original story, you may have noticed that Luna and Derrick's foster daughter's name changed from Zoe to Adria. When I originally wrote this, the character didn't have a name, so I picked one for her. Then she was given a name so I fixed it. And yes, I did go back and retcon it into the original story, too. :)


End file.
